


Muse.

by Alexander_Slamilton



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: GWash is such a dad, Hair Washing, Hurt/Comfort, I am going to hell, I can't find the post but its on tumblr, John is too cute, John needs a muse, M/M, Raritan shenanigans, SO GAY, So smol, They need to use words, erotic drawing, erotic hair washing, i love my revolutionary sons, its mostly historically accurate, john is so in love, kind of, like wow, look tall boy is there, my precious baby, raritan river, revolutionary puppy pile, sin sin sin, so much pining, so much sin, step up Alexander, thank you to tumblr for this information, time typical homophobia, watch john laurens get seduced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:39:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Slamilton/pseuds/Alexander_Slamilton
Summary: "John laid eyes on Alexander on the banks of the Raritan, something in how he felt for the other changed. The sun highlighted each line and dip of Alexander’s body, the light reflecting off his skin casting him as though he’d been carved by God himself."Basically, John wants to paint Alexander (and maybe kiss him). Alexander knows this, he also maybe wants to kiss John.





	

To say that one John Laurens, could paint was somewhat of an understatement; indeed, he had been gifted by God an extraordinary percentage of artistic talent. Though, now, with the war rushing on around him, he found little time or inclination to pick up a paint brush. That was, until one day.

 

They had camped on the banks of the Raritan river, grateful for the time to wash themselves and sleep in relative safety. John had jumped straight into the frigid water, revelling in the feeling of it encompass him; stinging his skin, making him feel more alive than he had in weeks. The water was clear, revealing the sharp rocks on the bottom of the river. Trees hung over the river, the branches seeming to reach into it, as if to fish. Sunlight lay dappled on the surface, staining the water with golden light, making a wonderful addition of stained glass to nature’s cathedral. Birds flew over their head, singing out with unabashed joy, the music the perfect missing puzzle piece. 

 

John lay on his back, letting the water cradle him, enjoying simply being _there,_ just being alive in that moment was wonderful. He thought not of war and violence, instead his thoughts were of piece and joy. He smiled luxuriating the lackadaisical harmony around him. He could hear the soft voices of his brother aides from somewhere in front of him. He lifted his head up and, finding he could no longer touch the bottom, started to tread water. Then, he saw Alexander, and he would have drowned had he not wished to see the sight of his fellow aide again. 

 

Alexander was different, where John was cold and reserved, Alexander was emotional and hotheaded. They were like fire and ice, like the moon and the sun. It was a miracle they found themselves so fond of the other, though that was what people who didn't know them very well said. John knew that he and Alexander had been drawn together, just like the moon and the sun, they were destined to follow each other around for the rest of their lives. There was a certain magnetism involved in their friendship, though it was ineffable. John knew, that despite their apparent differences, they were in fact very similar indeed. 

 

However, the moment John laid eyes on Alexander on the banks of the Raritan, something in how he felt for the other changed. The sun highlighted each line and dip of Alexander’s body, the light reflecting off his skin casting him as though he’d been carved by God himself. His hair fell down his back, the knobs of his spine visible as he turned around, John’s eyes fell on each one; all the way down to where two small dimples fell, kissed, into the small of Alexander’s back. His eyes dip lower; he follows the lines of the other’s body to the tops of his thighs and further to shapely calves. John swore he could feel the water heating up with every second he spent gazing at his friend.

 

His musing was interrupted by Lafayette jumping in to the water from the top of the bridge. The splash was enough to soak Alexander, who glared at Lafayette before running in to the river and dunking the other man.

 

“Laurens! Laurens! Help me, Alexander has gone completely mad!” Lafayette said, waving his arms in the air as he surfaced.

 

“ _I’ve_ gone mad? What about _you_? You soaked my whole uniform,” Alexander laughed as he splashed Lafayette in the face again. 

 

“You are uh- how you say fou en anglais?” Lafayette turned to John, the flow of the insult slightly ruined, but John didn't care. It meant that he got to see a dazzling smile on Alexander’s face.

 

“Uh insane, Lafayette,” John smiled, his head breaking through the surface of the water properly so he could speak. 

 

“Oui, you are insane!” Lafayette said happily, splashing Alexander, with a huge jet of water a lot of which hit John.

 

“Hey, it was peaceful before you two joined me,” John cupped his hands and splashed Lafayette, full in the face, “can we stop the petty war between us and enjoy nature?”

 

“Sorry,” Alexander muttered, moving closer to John so that he could place a hand on his shoulder in apology, the sunlight catching in his eyes turning them a more striking shade than before. John was transfixed in their beauty, as though they had reached out and grabbed mind making it impossible to think of anything else. John’s mouth fell open slightly as he exhaled, Alexander stared at him, a blush creeping over his cheeks, dusting his skin in the prettiest shade pink. The wind tousling his hair, John longed to stretch out a hand and brush the wayward strands out of Alexander’s face. He did not. His eyes flickered down to Alex’s pink, full lips, a glimpse of his teeth visible between them. 

 

Alexander took up the position John had been in, laying on his back, his hair fanning out in the water like a halo. John caught Lafayette’s gaze, the frenchman quirked a curious eyebrow at John, who looked down and refused to meet his eyes. 

 

“Be careful Laurens, lest a different man see such a look,” Lafayette whispered in John’s ear before he submerged his head under water and swam a little farther from John.

 

“Laf-“ John was in a panic, he could not believe that he had stared so openly at Alexander, if anyone else had walked by at that moment, he would surely be hanged.

 

“I will not speak of it, your secret is safe with me,” Lafayette smiled and he nodded, “I believe that when one’s lips turn blue it is perhaps time to leave, I will see you gentlemen back at camp.” He stood and walked to the bank. 

 

“Going so soon, Marquis?” Alexander said, looking sharply at Lafayette.

 

“Indeed, I can no longer feel my extremities, and I would so much like to keep them intact,” The Marquis laughed as he struggled to get a boot on.

 

“I suppose it is too cold for a delicate frenchman in here, is it not Laurens?” Alexander grinned at John, who nearly chocked on his words he was so smitten.

 

“Aye, it is,” he managed to get out.

 

“See you back at camp, Lafayette,” Alexander said, waving his hand as Lafayette donned his wool coat, though Alex did not look at The Marquis, instead his gaze was focussed on John. Sharp, calculating eyes watched him, taking each part of him in. “You’ve a leaf on your head, John,” Alexander smiled, reaching over to take it. 

 

“Oh, I, thank you,” John watched as delicate, almost feminine fingers plucked the leaf from his hair. “Alexander, do you play piano?” John did not inquire about Alexander’s past so much, the other had a habit of tensing and refusing to speak.

 

“I do not, what makes you ask?” Alexander asked shortly.

 

“Your hands, they are ah-“ John trailed off, gesturing to Alex’s hand, “my mother would call them pianist’s hands.” He finished, pleased with himself for being able to speak an almost coherent sentence to Alexander..

 

“I never really had the opportunity to learn,” Alexander shook his head, water droplets flying in to the air like crystals.

 

“I could teach you, when we have the time and the means, if you wish,” John offered, nervously grinning.

Alex fixed him with a curious look, eyes searching his again, as though trying to figure him out. John turned his head, looking down at his hands as they swished through the water, keeping him in place above the surface. 

 

“I would like that, you have my thanks,” Alexander said softly, “you are in a strange mood, my Laurens, what has changed within you?” 

 

“Nothing,” John said “nothing has changed, I just have not been sleeping so well.”

 

“I see,” Alexander was the one to look away, hair falling in curtain, masking the expression on his face. He then turned to the bank, not before glancing at John and grinning, “I brought a surprise, I don’t even know where Lafayette managed to get it; part of me does not really _want_ to know,” he walked up the slightly muddy bank to where their bags and clothes are laid out in the sun. 

 

John not hiding his gaze, fixated on the way Alexander moved; he watched the muscles under Alex’s skin bunch and stretch, pulling and flexing as their owner’s hips _swayed_. Alexander was almost obscene in his allure, almost indecent, and John was falling under his spell, willingly. Then Alexander bent over, reaching in to his leather bag; rummaging for something amongst the parchment and ink bottles usually kept in there. The view burnt itself into John’s mind, taking root and making itself at home; he knew that that is all he would see whenever he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sorry, though self hatred bubbled up beneath the surface, itching below his skin; he chose to ignore it, thought he would repent when he was dead. 

 

“Aha,” Alexander let out a pleased hum, holding out a bar of soap to John, who smiled and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Soap? We do have that, you know,” he said.

 

“Not just any soap, my dearest John, _your_ favourite soap; I was going to save it for your birthday, but, this seemed like far too good an opportunity to waste,” Alexander handed John the bar.

 

“But, you can only buy this-“

 

“Carnaby Street, London, I saw the wrappings of the last bar you had. I asked Lafayette if he knew anything about it; he said he’d confer with a contact in London and ask them to send it through. He’s been smuggling in this brand of English Whiskey for months; I made it known to him that I was privy to that information, he was very willing to assist me in my predicament,” Alexander waggled his eyebrows.

 

“You- you blackmailed our Marquis?” John’s eyes grew wide, laughter burbled in his throat, “my goodness, Alexander, you truly are something else.”

 

“There are no hard feelings, I assured him I would not tell a soul; I do love our Marquis so. Though now I am going to have to think of another birthday present for you,” Alexander inched closer, heat radiating through the water. “Here, let me.” He took the bar from John’s hands and moved around, so that his front was almost pressed flush against John. 

 

Alexander soaped John’s hair, running his fingers through the locks; unknotting it, working through the tangles that had formed there. His touch was light and gentle but every time his finger brushed against John’s skin, it seared, branding him. John was resolute in that he would not moan, though he did have to bite his tongue and actively try not to. Alexander’s skin brushed against his every time he moved his arms, every time he moved at all.

 

“There, now you look almost presentable,” Alexander said, stepping back and admiring his work, John’s hair fell over his shoulders now devoid of debris and the clumps of dried blood that had made their home in it. 

 

“Yet, you still look like you’ve never washed in your life, turn around,” John took the soap from Alexander and moved towards him, spinning the other man around, he took a few strands of hair in his hands. Scraggly, matted knots fell away as he worked his fingers through them, Alexander was far more vocal in his response to John’s administrations than John had been to his previously; he groaned in approval as John worked, leaning his head back as John scraped his fingers over Alex’s scalp, trying with all his might to illicit the sound again.

 

“John, I swear your hands are a gift from the heavens, but I fear our presence in camp will be sorely missed- oh, oh,” he broke off as John tugged slightly, trying to get a leaf out of a particularly tangled knot. Alex wriggled his shoulders, rolling them backwards, “John, please, we should go.”

 

“There is but one knot left, let me see to it,” John breathed into Alex’s ear, running his fingers lightly down the other’s neck, then up and into his hair. He worked through the knot, tugging and pulling slightly, until the strands fell like feathers down Alex’s back. “There it is done.” He stood back in the water, his feet just barely touching the bed of the river. His foot brushed along something smooth, not covered in moss like the rest of the stones, it felt cold like metal.

 

“To camp, then?” Alexander said, running his hands through his newly cleaned hair, so it framed his face, hanging in curtains on either side. 

 

“Give me a moment, I think there’s something down there,” he needed an excuse to stay in the water, to hide himself from Alexander. 

 

“Very well,” Alex swam for the bank, until he could stand properly, he rose from the water. Rivulets streaming down his pinked skin, slightly reddened from the chill of the water; scars littered his body, wound from the battles they had fought. A particularly nasty scar wound its way down his back, from where a Red Coat had sliced him with a sword, it twisted in a puckered line of white tissue. John had never seen anything more beautiful, the sun cast a gold ray down upon him lighting him up in streaks. Outlining the curves and dips of his body, muscular thighs leading to-

 

He dove down under the water, letting it embrace his whole body, it was cold enough to wake him up from the dream like state he’d been in. He opened his eye in the murky water, fingers searching for the smooth thing his foot had brushed. His lungs burned with their desire for air, but he held on still, scrabbling at the bottom of the river. When his vision started to blur, he kicked for the surface, stubbing his toe on a sharp rock.

 

“There you are, I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to dive in after you. Did you find what you were after, then?” Alexander grinned as John’s head broke through. 

 

“No, there was nothing,” John swam for the bank and hoisted himself up, wading through the weeds. 

 

He did not notice Alexander’s eyes widen, darkening so that there was no colour left in them; he did not notice Alexander as he drew in a deep breath and turned around as John struggled to get his left boot on. The white cotton shirt he pulled over his chest turns see-through because he’d not bothered to dry himself properly, the lines of his chest were clearly visible through the fabric but he shrugged his waistcoat on anyway, he’d dry off on the walk back. 

 

They moved back the way they’d come, the narrow forested path winding its way up the slopes of the valley. Their camp was perched on the highest point, over looking the entire river. It was a fantastic view, miles of woodland stretching out, covering the ground as far as the eye could see. They had come out of the densely packed trees, so now sunlight dappled the floor beneath their feet, birds flitted between the branches tweeting their discontent at being disturbed. 

 

The were passing through a clearing when they saw them. Washington and their brother aides, as well as Lafayette, were all sleeping in a pile beneath the branches of a large oak tree. John looked at Alexander, who grinned back. They started forward, carefully so as not to wake anyone, before they lay down. Alexander picked a spot right next to Washington, John lay at Alex’s feet, nearest Lafayette. The Frenchman stirred and blinked open a sleepy eye, before smiling and laying a hand on John’s shoulder, pulling him down on to the soft grass. He went willingly, casting a glance up at Alexander as the blackness of sleep consumed him. 

 

He woke when Lafayette shook his shoulder lightly, Washington was watching them all a small smile on his face. The General’s back was still leant up against the tree, though now his knees were drawn up against his chest. John flicked his eyes to Lafayette, who smiled and placed a finger to his lips, Washington hadn’t noticed they were awake just yet. 

 

John basked in the warm sunlight that filtered down through the branches of the tree, a squirrel perched on the edge of a branch, a nut caught in it’s hands. John ached to paint the scene, how much like a real family they must look, he wondered, like real brothers taking an afternoons rest. He had no paints left and, even if he did, he would not have a canvas on which to put them. 

 

He glanced back at his General, Washington had dozed off again, he was snoring slightly his head was tipped back and his mouth open. 

 

“What are you thinking, Laurens?” Lafayette’s voice whispered in his ear. 

 

“How much I would enjoy painting this scene, how we look as though we are a real family.”  
  
“We are, we are a real family, ‘least I see you as a brother,” Lafayette chuckled, “though maybe I could not be related to Tilghman.”

 

“You are of a far too delicate nature to be related to Tilghman,” John said dryly, turning around to face Lafayette, “if you think of me as a brother, does that mean I can call you Gilbert?”

 

Lafayette regarded a moment, one elegant eyebrow raised, “why not,” he said, though it was no question. 

 

“Merci, mon frère,” John smiled, as he dozed, the words cam out lazily and slightly garbled but Lafayette caught them and smile back softly. 

 

They woke next to find The General gone, Alexander had shifted in to his spot; he was snoring, a bit of drool coming out of his open mouth and his limbs were spread wildly in all directions. John chuckled as he stood and nudged Alexander with his foot. 

 

“Alex, wake up, we need to go back,” John said.

 

“What- where’s The General?” Alexander shot up, straightening his flyaway hair, pulling it back into its queue. 

 

“Already back at camp, according to Meade,” John grinned and gestured in the direction of the tents. 

 

“Does he have no work for us?” Alex asked, eyes widening in shock as he reached for his bag.

 

“He said our time is our own for now,” John nodded as they started to walk, trailing after Gilbert and the other aides, “though, he did also say to stay near to our tent, in case he should be in need of assistance.” 

 

“I see, well then, that should give me time to finish my Plutarch book,” Alex smiled, as they walked up the to the main entrance. 

 

The camp was more of a city of tents, spread around a couple of fields spiralling out from Washington’s head quarters. The General had holed himself up in the lone farmhouse, a creaky; damp building that made whoever went in there suffer from sickness. The walls dripped with damp and moss, the stairs had so many holes in them they could hardly be called stairs anymore. The roof leaked in all the rooms save for one, this had become Washington’s quarters, leaving his aides to set up tents. The mud they waded through was knee deep, though some commanders had had the good sense to lay planks down so they did not sink. 

 

They trudged through the mud towards their tent, grateful for the opportunity to sit and relax somewhat. The sun was setting, casting the camp with an orange glow that filtered through the canvas of the tent. Their beds were more bed rolls than actual beds, though they were at least warm. 

 

John stretched out on his, a pen and note book in his hand, his ink bottle was carefully perched on top of another book. He hummed a tune as he sketched; Alexander was lying on his back one arm folded under his head, as he read a book that was bigger than his own head. His head fell backwards on to the pillow, his neck extended and he put the book down next to him. He drew in a deep breath, sighing and turning to face John.

 

“What’re you doing?” Alexander said.

 

“Nothing,” John muttered, closing the book and cleaning the ink off his quill.

 

“Shall we go and bother Lafayette? Or see if there’s any food to eat?” Alex pouted, prodding John on the thigh.

 

“You know there’s no food,” John groaned, before sitting up and looking at Alex. “None that can be spared anyway.”

 

“Bothering Lafayette time then? Or will you let me see what you were drawing before?” Alexander prodded John again.

 

“If you stop prodding me, I might consider showing you a picture,” John said, opening his book and flicking through the pages, looking for something appropriate to show Alexander. “Here,” he handed the book to Alex. 

 

Alexander took it from him, his finger lightly brushing the pages, reverently stroking over the marks John’s charcoal had made. It was a drawing of Lafayette, Alexander, and John himself. They were all done up in their uniforms, helmets on their heads, sitting astride magnificent horses. Lafayette’s head was tipped back, a wide smile on his face, Alex’s hand on his shoulder; John was watching the scene with a small smile on his lips. Alexander glanced up at John, his eyes searching the other’s face, his lips were parted just the slightest amount.

 

“John,” Alexander whispered. 

 

“Well, I know it is not the best drawing, I’ve really not done much. This was just a practice-“

 

“John. It is exquisite,” Alexander cut through the babble of words that spilt out of John’s mouth. He didn't try to look on through the book, he simply handed it back to John, as smile cracked over his face. 

 

“Oh, I… well, thank you,” John took the book back and stuffed it under his pillow. 

 

“Lieutenant Colonel Laurens?” A voice came from the entrance of the tent.

 

“Yes?” John said, standing up and opening the flaps.

 

“General Washington wishes to see you in his quarters,” Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge stood in the door, helmet under his arm. “He said it was quite urgent.”

 

“Thanks, Tallmadge,” John made his way out of the tent and into the still night air. 

 

***

 

Winter came upon the American forces with an ice cold grip. She took them in her grasp and would not relinquish her hold. For weeks and months they marched through the countryside, desolate and unforgiving, they did not see any sign of life from animal or man; not until they reached Morristown. John shivered as he set his eyes upon the town. He remembered the tales of the harsh winter the army had faced there two years previously, that winter had turned to legend and was ingrained in the memories of men who had lived through it. They set up quarters in the Arnold Tavern, Alexander remembered the room he’d slept in; they claimed it for their own, along with the Marquis, who would not be without his two best friends. 

 

Trees had leaves stripped from their branches by an icy wind that refused to stop blowing through camp. The skies above the army were grey and heavy though no snow fell, instead clouds hung low, their boughs laden so they pressed upon the men. The country was empty, the men felt the same, they trudged about camp eyes downcast and dulled. Even Lafayette was having trouble keeping a smile upon his features. 

 

October had arrived, cheeks reddened and hands turned numb as they clutched guns. No more battles were to be fought, though that did not mean Washington’s boys had any respite. Meade was continually riding from camp to camp, so much so that he complained of not being able to sit down his backside was sore. 

 

For John, October meant his birthday, happy days had been spent in Europe with Vegobre and Kinloch, lazing in their rooms drinking rum. Those days were over; they had been for a long time, though John was still in denial. Though he was happy with his friends now. Alexander had been struck down for a while with fever, John had sat by his bed for as long as he could every day; he’d taken to writing his correspondence on a board one knee propped up on his friend’s cot. Lafayette grinned and laughed and spoke to John in rapid french, they sat side by side for most of the three weeks Hamilton had been bedridden. 

 

“John, you’re staring in to the void again, could it be you wish to cast yourself into it?” Alexander squeezed John’s shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh.

 

“Not today, not today my friend. I am afraid you will have to deal with me for a while longer, however painful it might be,” John drew his eyes away from the fire, and set them upon Alexander. 

 

“It causes me no pain, John, I swear,” Alexander grinned as he sat down beside John, warming himself in front of the hearth. He pressed close to John’s side; John could almost convince himself that Hamilton was just trying to get warm. Almost.

 

“We are lucky we managed to score the only other room with a hearth apart from His Excellency,” John squirmed away from Alexander slightly.

 

“Indeed, though I think that was mostly because of the Marquis’ insistence that we room with him,” Alexander smiled, if he noticed John moving he made no perceivable recognition of it. “It will be your birthday soon, no?”

 

“Uh, yes, on the 27th, why?”

 

“What would you like?” Alexander asked, his eyes trained on John. He could feel himself drowning in their depths, sinking into the same rabbit hole he had gone down before, with Francis. He tried desperately to claw his way back out, but then, he’d tried before. 

 

“You do not have to get me anything,” he coughed, he could see the light from the entrance of the rabbit hole disappearing behind Alexander’s smile. 

 

“But I wish to,” Alexander reached out and took a strand of John’s hair in his fingers. “You’d a bit of leaf trapped in there, perhaps another bar of soap in in order?”

 

“It would be a miracle for you to procure anything in the middle of this war,” John shrugged and smiled at Alexander. 

 

“That is where our dear friend The Marquis comes in.”

 

“Ah, of course, where is he tonight? It is not like him to be absent when a fire and rum is available,” John said.

 

“He’s with His Excellency, I believe they are discussing Arnold,” Alexander nodded towards the door. 

 

They shared significant looks with each other, and proceeded to drink most of the night away. They did not realise how drunk they had got or how late it was until Lafayette tumbled through the door, half asleep complaining that the sun would be up before long. 

 

***

 

John woke to light streaming through the gaps in the curtains, the other beds in the room were empty and a note was pinned to the door. He swung himself out of bed, wincing as his feet slapped against the cold wood floor, and padded towards the note. He sighed and smiled, his friends had worked overtime to afford him a lie in; reading on further he found out Hamilton had left a present on his desk. 

 

He got dressed, hopping on one leg trying to get his breeches on without shivering himself to death. He pulled on his boots with fingers that were already going numb, no one had tended to the fire and it was frigid in the room. 

 

John ran down the stairs to the room where a work station was set up, he found it empty apart from a package wrapped in brown paper sitting on his desk. His fingers shook as he ripped in to the parcel, carefully tearing it from corner to corner. He audibly gasped when the contents was revealed. A leather sketchbook and a set of handmade pencils fell on to the desk. John had never been indulged in his passions by anyone, not even Francis, to have someone acknowledge and aide him in his desires was new to John. He grinned as he picked up the book, noting that his name was embossed in gold on the front, the paper was fine, thick and pure white. He stroked his fingers down the blank pages, almost reverently, before setting the book down carefully and picking up the pencils. They were finely made, soft leaded and nice to hold, they felt just right clutched in John’s fingers. He sat at the desk and sketched out the beginnings of an arm, in roman dress; holding a caduceus, long fingers holding the snake woven pole, waving it, out of the blank page he carved a wing. He couldn't get it right, it looked too small, too crooked; there were too many things wrong with it. He was stuck, his inspiration gone, the crushing weight of war had taken it from him. He hadn’t been able to draw properly in months.

 

“Laurens! I see you found our Hamilton’s present, how do you like it?” Lafayette bustled in to the room. 

 

“I like it very much, where is our absent friend? I should like to thank him,” John smiled up at The Marquis. 

 

“He is currently indisposed, sequestered away in Washington’s tent, I do not believe we will be seeing him forquite a while.”

 

“A pity, I wish him to sit for me, while I have the materials at hand,” John motioned to the book and pencils, “though if you are not so busy, perhaps you would be a willing substitute,” John made sure to make his jest obvious, so as not offend his friend. 

 

“But of course, I am not as busy as our Ham. It would be an honour to sit for you-“

 

“Ah! Marquis, I was sent to tell you that Washington asked for you, uh now in his rooms,” Tench Tilghman walked in, looking hassled. He grabbed a letter from Alexander’s desk and hurried out of the room again.

 

“Hélas! Our plans are undone! I must go see what His Excellency wants from me, if I am back not so late I may be of assistance. As for you, mon frère, you have the rest of the day off,” Lafayette grinned, smacked John on the back and waltzed out of the room, allowing the door to slam behind him. 

 

John sat for awhile, soaking in the silence, revelling in the idea of having a whole day to himself. He couldn't remember the last time he’d had time off, there had always been something that needed doing. Now, he felt the hours stretching out in front of him, he picked up the book and pen and made his way to the forest just outside of camp. It was too cold for anyone else to be there voluntarily and guards only came by once every hour, so he was quite alone save for the distant noise of camp and the whistling wind. He’d been stuck on what to draw for so long. Now, a face loomed in his mind, striking cheekbones and eyes that had depths even he couldn't see, a strong lean body, sinewy and muscular, honed as if from marble by the gods. His muse. 

 

He started with the face, those cheekbones that seemed like they could cut you, eyes with untold stories and emotions, hair that curled attractively framing it all. He drew the man like he wished to see him, almost debauched, lips pink and plump and bruised from his kisses. His hands moved of their own accord, sketching hard lines of Alexander’s body, curving and curling creating from nothing. 

 

It wasn’t until he was finished when he realised what he’d done. He looked down at the picture, it was objectively good, if he didn’t think about who it was of. John shook as he closed the book, mind racing to figure out a good place to hide it until he could find a way to be rid of the picture; heaven forbid Alexander finding it. John would be out of the army faster than he could say “sodomy”.He chocked slightly, he could hardly remember drawing it at all, it had been like a trance. 

 

“Laurens?” 

 

“Alex! What’re you doing out here?” 

 

“Looking for you,” Alexander said, crunching through the fallen leaves and branches, making his way towards John, “it’s going to get dark soon.” He sat next to John, his thighs pressed close, heat radiating through their breeches.

 

“Oh, I didn’t notice,” John looked down and thought about how he could move away from Alexander without hurting the other’s feelings.

 

“Time flies. Come, we have but one more surprise for you back in our room,” Alex stood suddenly, holding out his hand; John took it, he knew then that he was lost to sin forever. 

 

“Oh? Should I be scared?” John grinned, pushing his earlier thoughts out of his mind. 

 

“Nah, we may have secured some of that wine and cheese you like. We are going to get roaring drunk and regret it all in the morning,” Alexander bumped his shoulder against John. 

 

“Wonderful.” 

 

 

***

 

Alexander knew what he was doing, at least he thought he did. He could see all the pieces of his plan falling into their places, bit by bit. He saw John Laurens falling for him, there had been a myriad of things that could have gone wrong, yet none of them had. It wasn’t dishonest, not if John had already had feelings for him, all he was doing was helping John to realise them. 

 

He walked in to the room, it looked like it had been the victim of canon fire. Their bed rolls had been pushed to the middle of the room, they’d slept in a heap last night, their clothes were spread all over. John was currently throwing up in a bush outside the house, Lafayette was just as bad, he’d been locked in the privy all morning. Alexander felt like the only one not suffering, until he tripped over something. The book he’d given John lay open in front of him. The page was blank, but he could see the outline of a drawing on the previous page, it was just a shadow but Alexander could see it was a man. He picked up the book and flipped the page, his breath caught in his throat. John had drawn him.

 

“What- oh god. Alexander I-“ John stopped dead, red flooding his cheeks, his eyes wide as he stammered.

 

“You’ve drawn my hips much too narrow. Really I think a live model would be better.” Alexander turned to watch John’s reaction. The other man’s breath caught in his throat, his pupils blew out so that no colour was visible. “For artistic purposes of course.”

 

“I- oh yes, of course,” John nodded, looking down, one arm coming up and scratching behind his head as he laughed nervously. 

 

“When we next have some time, I would be happy to sit for you, John, all you had to do was ask,” Alexander’s lips curled up and he handed John the book as he left the room. Picking up his coat from where it lay on his way out. 

 

They worked in silence all day, the only sound that echoed in the room was their quills scratching against the paper. Mountains of correspondence piled up around them, until it could be taken by the midnight courier. It was around eleven thirty when Washington came in, stooping low to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. 

 

“Right, men, I can not under good conscience keep you any later, please, the rest of the night is your own,” he said, bowing out of the room.

 

“Thank all that is holy. I’m off to find a woman,” Tench said, standing as he dusted off the front of his breeches, he left the room along with Richard Meade, one arm slung round the other’s back.

 

“Lafayette said he would be meeting with Washington tonight, did he not?” Alexander said, “we would have the room to ourselves, if you still wish to draw me.”

 

“I do- I mean, if you want to be drawn,” John blushed and looked down at his hands.

 

“John, the work I saw earlier was exquisite, I was not aware that I could look anything like that. I am grateful and flattered that you chose me to draw-“

 

“My muse. I mean, I lost it, when the war started. I couldn’t draw for months, not until I saw- until that day in Raritan,” John refused to look anywhere else but his hands.

 

“The Raritan? That was months ago,” Alexander said, he never missed anything, sharp calculating eyes scanned over John’s face. It was pink and a small bead of sweat was working its way down his cheekbones from his forehead. “John, do you have other drawings of me?”

 

“…One or two…” John mumbled.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Maybe one or two,” John said a little louder this time, though he coughed in the middle.

 

“Could I see?” Alexander said, coming around the desks.

 

“Another time, perhaps, if you still want to sit we need to start,” John smiled and gestured in the vague direction of their room.

 

 

The fire burned low in the grate, orange light blanketed everything in the room. Alexander’s face was lit up by candles, placed to highlight his most attractive features. John moved about him, touching him now and then, positioning him just right. He pushed Alex back, extending the column of his neck, tilting his head to the side. Alex’s cravat was undone, it hung around the bottom of his neck, leaving his collar bones exposed, grooves cut into his shoulders highlighted in the shadows cast by the flickering candles. He was bootless and stockingless, his muscular calves completely bare, John had no idea why he found that so alluring; one of Alex’s feet was tucked under him, the other rested on John’s trunk.He drew back so his eyes were level with Alexanders, their breaths mingling in the distance between them; John though of how easy it would be to close the distance and kiss Alex. He reeled backwards, physically forcing himself to get out of Alexander’s space. Alex looked up at him, his eyes dark in the low light, so that no colour was visible in them; they were slightly hooded and so, so beautiful.

 

“John?”

 

“I’m alright, just hot in here, is all,” John said moving back to Alexander. “If you could-“ Alex shifted slightly, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt, letting it fall open; exposing one nipple and the line of his chest. “Perfect.” John muttered, leaning over Alex to untie his hair from it’s queue, watching as it tumbled over his shoulders. “Good. Right. I should…” he motioned to the chair he’d set up for himself. 

 

The only sound in the room was the movement of John’s pencil over the page, black lines coming together to form a coherent picture. Alexander coming to life out of lead as John added to the picture, he moved down the lines of Alexander’s body carefully crafting his likeness. He looked up and caught Alex’s eye, the other man didn't move save for his tongue, it dragged across his bottom lip making it shine in the candle light. If it had been hard for John not to kiss Alex earlier, it was even harder now. He coughed and kept drawing, focussing on the sensations of pencil on paper to distract him. John could have sworn he heard Alexander sigh. 

 

“John, could we take a break? My thigh is starting to cramp,” Alexander said, after about two hours.

 

“Hmm? Yes! Yes of course, I think my hand may be on the verge of giving up,” John smiled and looked up, “I could finish without you sitting now, anyway.”

 

“Ah, okay, that’s wonderful. I think I may make like Tilghman, I would care for some company, if you are up to it?” Alexander stood, massaging his leg, swinging it back and forth. Before he re-dressed himself, bending over to put his boot on, his breeches stretching over the swell of his arse, John coughed and focussed on his sketch.

 

“Uh, no, no. I think I may stay here and finish this, once I start, it is very hard to stop. You go, though, find yourself a woman,” John laughed a little.

 

“Aaah, my dearest Laurens, I have no need of a woman to settle my desires,” Alexander grinned slyly, his sharp teeth reflecting the fire light, “don’t wait up for me.” He said, leaving the room still doing up his cravat. 

 

John had no idea what time was when Alexander stumbled back in to their room. Lafayette had come and gone, muttering something about Washington not letting him sleep. John had kept drawing, adding bits that he hadn’t been brave enough to tell Alex he wanted. It was better than any other drawing of Alexander he’d done, more life like, as though the Alex in this picture could pick himself off the page and join John in the room then and there. He wasn’t prepared for the picture’s subject to mirror the picture in real life, though that is what it seemed was happening when Alexander came back. He didn't have time to hide the sketchbook before Alexander was draping himself over his shoulders, almost sitting on his lap.

 

“My Laurens, if you wished me to be like that, you merely had to ask,” Alexander said, trailing a finger down the side of John’s face, “I would have requested your help in preparing myself, however.”

 

“It is art, Hamilton, I drew what my muse showed me. You are drunk, off to bed, I think.”

 

“So soon John, don’t you think you should woo me first?” Alex nearly fell over as John pushed him toward his bedroll.

 

“You don’t mean it. I will not take advantage of you. Go to bed, Alexander.” John pushed his friend on to the bedroll and threw a blanket over him, he moved his over to the other side of the room.

 

***

Alexander groaned and rolled over, throwing up and arm to shield his eyes from the light that was shining in through the windows. His head pounded and his mouth was dry, he could hardly remember anything from the night before. 

 

“John?”

 

“You’re awake, good, I saved you some porridge. It shouldn't be too cold,” John set the bowl down by Alex’s face, he wrinkled his nose, the mere scent made him want to the throw up.

 

“Ugh, no thank you,” he turned to face the other way.

 

“You have to eat. I have work to do, I can cover for you with Washington for a while but he’ll question your absence if it takes you all day to recover,” John hustled out of the room, refusing to meet Alexander’s eyes.

 

“Bugger.” Alexander moaned in pain, vowing to never touch a sip of alcohol again.

 

It was nearly eight o’clock when Hamilton finally made it to his desk, he picked up his quill and grimaced as he faced down the piles of letters he had to read, write and send. He almost cried when Tench came over to him and shouted in his ear. John silently chuckled to himself at Alex’s discomfort. 

 

“You should have thought about this last night, when you were drinking yourself in oblivion,” John quipped when Alexander cried at him whilst they ate lunch behind the building they worked in. The sky stretched over them, clear and blue, though the air was freezing. Their breath spiralled above them in swirls of white mist, their hands clutched their soup bowls to keep them from catching frostbite.

 

“Believe me, last night was unavoidable, had I not gone out I would not have been able to keep myself from ravishing you,” Alexander said, only realising just _what_ he had said when the words were out of his mouth. “I did not mean to say that out loud.”

 

“You… you… you’re-“ John stammered, though it felt like his world was lighting up, he couldn't seem to get the words out of his mouth.

 

“Could we forget that I said those words?” 

 

“Alexander, je ne pourrais jamais oublier un mot que tu dis,” John turned to face his friend, though he kept his eyes downcast, afraid of Alexander’s reaction.

 

Suddenly, as if by some unknown force, Alexander felt his mind clear. He blinked, all those hours trying to get John to fall for him seemed to have worked. He had been having fun at first, enjoying the look on John’s face as he blushed and stuttered, then slowly Alexander had fallen for his friend. Now, in that moment, Alexander felt himself fall further, not only that he could see that John had fallen for him too. Joy settled over him, encapsulating him in heady goodness. The world shone brighter, though nothing shone a bright as his Laurens.

 

“Mon Laurens, vous avez ma cœur et ma vie dans vos mains. Faites avec eux ce que vous voulez,” Alexander whispered, eyes searching John’s face, slowing over his lips.

 

Silence stretched over them for a few heartbeats. John did not meet his eyes, his face turned away, though slowly millimetre by millimetre, John turned to face Alexander. Their knees brushed each other where they sat, as John slowly put his soup down before taking Alex’s from him. One of John hands came up to cup Alex’s cheek, it shook slightly as his brushed over his skin, the thumb stroking his cheek bone. John’s eyes met his and then, like they were magnetised, they were kissing. Lips coming together in a shower of feelings. It was better than anything Alexander had imagined in the hours between waking and sleeping.

 

“Lafayette is still in meetings with Washington, is he not?” Alexander asked, stealing kisses between words, as though now he’d tasted John, he could no longer get enough. 

“Yes, I believe he is,” John gasped against Alexander’s lips.

 

“Voulez-vous vous joindre à moi dans le lit, mon cher Laurens,” Alexander whispered in John’s ear, before kissing down his neck, he could see the blush that dusted John’s skin and felt the other man nod eagerly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, this literally took me so long idek why but it did. I hope its okay!! Please comment/kudos really they are such good motivation.
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr if you want at: obi-wan-kxnxbi!! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope you liked it <3


End file.
